Snow. I hear cars whisper. Too cold for humans to yell in the street.
All of them must be indoors in the warm like me.

I go to the glass, feel that it is colder than even my nose.
I contemplate putting my whiskers and nose to the cheek of the sleeping humans.
But discard the idea. It isn’t even likely to rouse them. They walked tired today.
Perhaps I’ll do my catiothentics without the yells this time.